The Rider
02-21-2009, 01:40 PM
With our playthings strewn across the carpet
You were told she wouldn't be there anymore, then
JENGA!
Life came crashing down among us.
Comforting your shoulder with one hand,
The other scoops our own toys closer to the chest;
Death now infringes on our slowly shrinking room.
But we are not yet old enough to leave these walls
And soon the baubles spread again into just another daily chaos,
Leaving someone else to notice what we do not, that this is us:
Life not freed by life, but youth.
You were told she wouldn't be there anymore, then
JENGA!
Life came crashing down among us.
Comforting your shoulder with one hand,
The other scoops our own toys closer to the chest;
Death now infringes on our slowly shrinking room.
But we are not yet old enough to leave these walls
And soon the baubles spread again into just another daily chaos,
Leaving someone else to notice what we do not, that this is us:
Life not freed by life, but youth.